


In Tall Grass Under Stars

by DinosaurTheology



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, First Time, I Love You, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, Lucid Dreaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 17:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11719068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinosaurTheology/pseuds/DinosaurTheology
Summary: Star's magic has been wonky since the battle for Mewni started, and she misses Marco like crazy. Sometimes two terrible tastes taste great together.





	In Tall Grass Under Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This one's a little intense but I'm kinda proud of it. I hope folks enjoy. I'll have the second chapter to the other one I was writing up soon, too. It was also kinda intense :P

Star shivered in the chill Mewni evening. The dew fell early, here. There was probably some explanation for it that made a form of sense, like that the unicorns of the Cloud Kingdom all washed their hair at exactly that same time or the tengu wept when their suppers came late, but at the moment Star sort of assumed that the weather itself was out to devil her. Anything, she thought, to remind me that I'm here, in Mewni, Mewni in the middle of a war, instead of in Echo Creek, with my friends.

 

With Marco.

 

She pulled memories of a ratty red hoodie closer around her body, sought after the phantom of a smell. It wasn't coming back. She watched him, as much as she could, on the magic mirror. It wasn't safe to use too much magic, her mother told her, because the rats in Toffee's army could track it to its source. It was one of their powers in the same way that the Lizard Folk could regenerate lost limbs or a Deer Beard could bench press a house. Everyone had a power, a niche, everyone had something they were good at.

 

Mewmans? Mewmans could eat corn. Star pursed her lips. It wasn't the most effective talent in battle, she supposed, but they could have been left without anything at all. Eat corn and, in her case, mope. The latter was maybe even more useless than the former. Eating corn could at least keep you strong, able to fight, and you might even be able to do some real damage if you happened to be at war with an, er... particularly starchy, yellow enemy. Her hangdog expressions and long, heavily heaved sighs, on the other hand? Star couldn't see a way to turn that to an advantage.

 

She couldn't help it, though, no matter how much her mother pointed it out to her or she reminded herself that this just wasn't a productive use of her time or energy. She fought well enough, when the moment called, but couldn't muster the energy to be as effective a force on the field for Mewni, for the Butterfly family, as she could have been. I know that our magic isn't as strong but they're just rats—we ought to be doing more than just holding our own against them even if they are well-organized little jerks. And they did hold their own, at least, managed to stem the tide of gray fur and sharp teeth... except when the Girls showed up.

 

Star shuddered. She didn't like to think about the Girls.

 

Father Time lurched along on his wheel. He has a tendency to do that. Days melted into weeks until a thinner, haggard Star with exhaustion smeared beneath her eyes curled on a rough, woolen blanket on the same cold, damp Mewni grass (it wasn't the same grass-same grass, but it might as well have been... how much variety do you get in grass?) and tried to draw his scent, that magic scent of cumin from Angie's cooking and his truly awful Axe body wash, all the way from Earth Mewni.

 

Finally, without warning or reason, it crawled into her nostrils. Star blinked. That... that's impossible, she thought. Isn't it? I mean, the hoodie isn't even with me, anymore, and the last little bit that it was it kind of smelled, y'know, like sweat and tears and sadness. This smells like delicious Mexican food and stinky teenage boy soap.

 

She blinked back tears. Not gonna go crazy tonight, Star, can't go crazy. You just stop smelling that Marco-smell, girl, and get it together. Go and bash some rats like you got sense.

 

It wouldn't go away, no matter how she tried. Star sighed. Well, she thought, guess I'm gonna go nanners and start smelling things that aint here. Poop. She frowned. Am I gonna have to start talking to myself and painting on the walls with that like Mina? Cause she's super freakin awesome in a fight but... yeah, no. We're not gonna do that, even if it helped me beat the Girls once and for all.

 

A gentle hand squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, Star.”

 

Marco! She squeezed her eyes shut. “No, Marco illusion... I don't wanna go crazy and start finger-painting with my poop.”

 

“Star,” he said. “I'm not an illusion. Look!”

 

She rolled over. There he was. Marco. Marco! She leaped up and flung her arms around his neck. “Ohmigosh, Marco, I missed you so much! I wore your hoodie until it, like, fell apart, and then I tried to smell your hoodie even though it hadn't smelled like a hoodie in a long time and...”

 

He hushed her with a soft kiss. It melted on her lips and spread warmth throughout her body, loosened her limbs and made her eyes go glassy. “Possum,” she said. “Possum gloop.”

 

“You have no idea how long I've waited to do that,” he said.

 

“Morp,” she said. “I didn't steal your shoes.”

 

He frowned and laid the back of his hand against her head. “Uh, you still with me, there, Star?”

 

The only answer she could think of was another, harder kiss. She pressed her mouth against his so ferociously, so hungrily, that she mashed his lips against his teeth and tasted both their blood mingle in the sweltering summer of it.

 

Matters progressed from there, as they will, until the two lay in a sweetly exhausted tangle of sweaty limbs on the dew kissed grass. Star sighed. “That was super... um... yeah.”

 

He kissed her blonde hair. “I know.”

 

“So, uh, how did you get here, Marco?”

 

“Don't you know?”

 

“Not so much.”

 

“Oh,” he said. “I don't either. Magic, I guess?”

 

“I guess,” she said. “I figure that makes as much sense as anything.”

 

“I was just kind of minding my own business and then... floop. There I was, right outside your camp.” He rubbed bare arm. “It gets chilly here at night.”

 

“I know.” She snuggled down closer to him. “It's warm now, though.”

 

“Yeah,” he said. “Warm is good.”

 

“Still doesn't really make sense, though.”

 

“What?”

 

“How you're even here.”

 

“Like I said,” he told her, “magic. It usually covers a multitude of sins.”

 

“Yeah, but, well...” She nibbled a strand of her hair. “I don't know if you know this, Marco, but magic has been kind of... not working, lately. Or at least not working well.”

 

“You mean you don't have your wand, or...?”

 

“I mean I have it, and I can usually do simple stuff, but something big? It's unpredictable at best.”

 

“Wouldn't this count as unpredictable?”

 

“I sure as corn didn't predict it,” she said. “So, uh... where do we go from here?”

 

“I don't know,” he said. “I wish we didn't have to go anywhere.”

 

“Me too,” she said, “but eventually we're gonna get hungry and this grass is already starting to, uh... kinda get a little itchy on my baby soft skin.”

 

“We can stay here a little longer, though.” He held her close. “We can, y'know, just enjoy the grass and the moonlight.”

 

“I dunno about the grass,” she said, “but the moonlight sure is nice.” She sighed and then felt it just welling up in her. “Marco,” she said, “I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Star.” He didn't seem as shocked as he should.

 

“No,” she said, “no, no... I mean I, like, love you-love you. Like, always and forever until the corn aint yellow anymore.”

 

“Me too,” he said.

 

She yawned. “I hope you don't mind, but... I'm gonna have to take a little nap, here. Being a princess on the run in a war-torn land can get a little bit exhausting. Can we talk more in the morning?”

 

“Of course we can.”

 

“Okay, then,” she said. Star laid her head on his chest. “G'night, Marco. I love you.” Saying it now felt like soft, sleepy breathing.”

 

“I love you, too.” When she awoke he was gone, having left nothing but the ghost of a smell on the memory of his red hoodie.

 


End file.
